Paranormal Attraction
by Roriette
Summary: Aside from being able to see ghosts, now Roxas has to deal with this one of a kind royal pain in the arse ghost named Riku who claims part ownership of his bedroom. And then trouble brews with popular teen Sora Lockhart. Riku/Roxas/Sora with AkuRoku
1. Brewing a Storm

**Author's Note:** Aahhh…This fic is totally based on _"The Mediator"_ by Meg Cabot, and maybe some _"Alex Rider"_ (by Anthony Horowitz) stuff as well, if it ever gets to be action-ized. I was reading some AU-school KH fics with Sora/Roxas, so I got all inspired…plus my rereading of Meg Cabot's novels. I have had this idea for a while, but after starting on my K.H.R fic, I just lost interest in this one. But somehow I re-read and found it to be satisfying, so...All right, enough rambling~

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Kingdom Hearts, yes I know it sucks, and no, I don't think I can ever own it anyway, since I'm not Tetsuya Nomura. Oh, and _The Mediator_ idea from Meg Cabot.

**Warnings:** It's definitely going to be BL/Yaoi/Slash or whichever you call it AHAWHAWHAWHAW`!~W#$ Anyway, Roxas is a bit sarcastic in the beginning, but he'll return to being his cute self once the story's clear =D He's also rather snarky and hot-headed, but being meek and timid never gets the story anywhere! Hehe 3 Ahh, and my writing isn't usually this simple, ranting tone, but I'm too in the Meg Cabot mood to change it.

**Summary:** Recently Roxas has moved from his hometown Destiny Island to a populated urban area, Twilight City. On top of dealing with pesky city teens, he also has to cope with his uncanny ability to see the undead (A.K.A ghosts). What happens when he finds out about this one suave royal pain in the ass century-year-old ghost by the name of Riku who takes part ownership of his bedroom? And what about that popular sophomore by the name of Sora Lockhart who's bent on discovering his dangerous ability?

Anywayz~ enjoy =]

* * *

Ever since I was a toddler, I always thought I was a normal human. Sure, I can land an extremely mean punch whenever I get intentionally provoked (and I say intentionally because the kind of business I deal with usually involves some really rude creatures who don't know better. Well, before I give them a piece of my mind), oh, and that roundhouse kick that can send any living thing sprawling through a wall, yet still remain alive so I can torture them some more, but that's all, and I don't really look out of the norm. Sure my spiky blond hair defies gravity without the use of gel, but I think it's only because it's in the genes, and my cerulean eyes are slightly wider than most of the guys I know, but aside from these exceptions, I'm perfectly capable of being in the human genre.

I suppose I can say that only if I hadn't been born with this accursed gift from the Higher Beings: the ability to see the undead. Undead not as in zombies from those typically dramatic horror movies currently airing in the theatres, but more like ghosts who like to mess around with me while I'm half-asleep, all because they want me to deliver a message to his or her grandchildren that the money they saved up during the hardships of WWI is actually in the fridge downstairs, if ever they need the extra tidbits to ease them in their lives. Yeah, I think I'll like this unpaid job better if they don't bug me every second of the day and actually let me sleep when I should be sleeping, but since this is obviously not possible, I guess I should just stick with it.

Psh, who am I kidding?

"Attention all passengers, please remain buckled in your seats as we are descending onto the landing now. Again, all passengers must have their seatbelts buckled as we are descending."

I stare out through the panel and see vast grayish white vapors of cloud swishing past as the plane tilts downward toward the runway. There are green and yellow blurs, which I assume are trees and some sort of fruits hanging on them. I can feel the floor beneath me shaking as we finally descend on the runway, the wheels skidding several feet into a final halt. The guy sitting next to my seat lifts his yellow Pikachu pillow off of his face and groans, yawning loudly. I turn to observe the other passengers blandly. A mother and her child, a middle-aged woman with glasses and a notebook, an obese woman asleep, a bald man…

I yawn as well.

"Attention all passengers," the monotone woman's voice is back on the speakers, "we will be departing by each row of seats. We will start with A001. Repeat, attention all passengers…"

I follow the man before me sleepily, regretting how I woke up earlier than anyone else around my area during the morning of the flight. As I am getting nearer to the exit, I just remember something my dad told me over the phone. I think he mentioned that in the city during this time of the year, (which is December) it's much colder than I'm used to back at Destiny Island. He said that it snows in winter...and I'm over here wearing a simple t-shirt and baggy black pants. So if I freeze to death on my first day on level ground since my plane ride, it's entirely my own fault. For trying to get comfortable. Oh wait, here we go. Time to embrace the heavenly arms of bitter hardship! As I am thinking this, I take a broad step out of the plane – and freeze.

Literally freeze on the spot because the cold is so utterly inhumanely cold that it's hot. Not the nice hot-bath kind of hot, but the stinging hot that is cold. If that makes any sense at all. I can hear disgruntled voices behind me, and I hurriedly step off onto the cold landing. There are bits of snow everywhere – in the air, on brown trees, and the frosting over the busy roads. It isn't snowing entirely, but the air is thick with moisture of mist and cold. I speed over to the revolving doors to find sanctuary in the airport, with its dryness and warm temperature. I look around at the white walls and glass windows, with the machines admitting new arrivals, a family meeting up with another in every corner, and wonder how I'm ever going to find my relatives in this place. Apparently, I shan't have to look any further, because a large, decorated banner with my name on it with excessive hearts is held up over the crowd.

No, that is definitely not embarrassing or anything. Several passersby pass by the banner and "aww"ed, casting looks around to see if they can spot whomever it's dedicated to. I avoid them and hightail over to the idiots waving the banner. I get closer and see a tall, dark-haired girl wearing a designer trench coat and high heels brandishing the banner proudly. I don't recognize her, but I have a feeling she's going to be a daily annoyance. On the other side of the welcome message stands Aeris, the kind brunette I've known since childhood. She's wearing a thick wool scarf over her dress, her emerald eyes glancing searchingly. I immediately break up into a smile, hurrying over to the two women.

"Aeris!" I acknowledge as I approach them, waving my arm. She looks over at the sound of her name, notices me, and gives me a warm smile. The short-haired girl next to her drops the flag in excitement as I come toward them.

"Roxas, is it?" she exclaims hyperactively, jumping up and down. Before I can answer, however, she says, "Welcome to Twilight City!" and pulls me into a tight hug. I struggle in her bear hug, my forehead crushed against her arm. Aeris giggles in amusement, ruffling my hair when the girl finally frees me from her grasp.

"The others have already gotten your baggage, and they're all waiting in the cars right now," Aeris tells me.

"Cars?" I didn't think there will be that many people retrieving me from the airport.

"Yes, it seems there are a lot of people meaning to meet you. Roxas can actually be pretty popular," she teases, pinching my cheek.

"Ow…I doubt it."

"I forgot to introduce myself," the tall girl says, her heels click-clacking on the floor, "I'm Yuffie, your cousin, even though we don't look alike."

I observe her, and agree that we don't share any similarities in our appearances. Her hair is jet black, her eyes are a dark brown, and with the added inches from her heels, she may be around six foot one. In my case, my hair is naturally golden blond, eyes deep blue, and my height seems to remain five foot four since middle school. We can't be anymore different.

"I'm not your only cousin though, and you're gonna' meet a lot of 'em when we get to the cars," she adds excitedly.

Hm…other cousins, huh.

We're closing in on the exit now, and I can tell that the glass doors are fogged up from the coldness outside. Aeris looks me over from top to bottom with a frown.

"Roxas… did you forget to bring extra clothes?" she reprimands, shaking her head.

I laugh sheepishly, and Yuffie snickers beside me. She rustles in her Abercrombie and Fitch bag, taking out a folded jacket along with thick Moogle gloves. I thank her as she stuffs them into my arms.

"Mr. Sly mentioned that you would appreciate something extra when we meet up with you, so I brought some clothes with me," Yuffie winks, grinning as I stick my hand into a glove. Moogle ears protrude from my knuckles.

"Mr. Sly?"

"You know, your dad. He's always so sly, mentioning things from my childhood to entertain everyone when we have a family get-together," she explains, sniffing.

We exit one by one through the revolving entrance, and despite the extra padding, I still feel chilled to the bone, shivering in the wintry iciness. The sky is grey with looming clouds, warning of an impending storm. Parked in front of the airport are four cars: two sleek silver and black convertibles (BMW), a glossy blue Toyota Camry Hybrid, and a Mercedes-Benz R-Class. Onlookers whisper amongst themselves as they pass by, blatantly commenting on the affluent vehicles, some even pointing at them directly.

"Uhh…" I mumble something incoherent even to myself as Yuffie pulls me along by my arm towards the first car, the silver BMW. She taps on the shaded window, and it slowly rolls down. A blond with smooth but spiky hair looks out the window at us, his intent gaze on me.

"Cloud!" I step back as he gets out of the driver's seat.

"How was your ride, Roxas?" he asks, a hint of a smile on his thin lips as he ruffles my hair gently.

"It was okay…" I reply, grinning. "Did dad come?"

"He's busy at the moment, but he'll be home for dinner," he says, dusting snow from my hair. It's been a while since we last saw each other – probably around three to four years. Up until now, I had stayed with our grandparents on Destiny Island with my friends Hayner, Pence, and Oletto.

Upon my intrusion, all the doors of the other cars' have unlocked, and eight and more people are standing around. They all seem to tower over me, their stares aimed at my face. I feel a bit nervous as they approach us. I wonder who all these people are, and why they choose to meet me when I don't even recognize them. These people seem to be dressed all in stylish and expensive outfits, and they hold themselves up with arrogant grace.

"Everyone, this is Roxas," Aeris introduces me with an encouraging glance in my direction. I nod hesitantly.

Glancing around the murmuring crowd, I see a bulky guy with a cowlick and goggles patting a blond girl around my age on the back. He seems to be persuading her to do something, and when I catch his eye, he grins and winks at her.

"Uncle Cid!" I wave at him, and he hustles aside the bustling crowd toward me, dragging the unwilling girl with him.

"How ya' doing, Roxie?" he grumbles, squeezing me in a hug worse than Yuffie's.

I gasp for breath and answer, "Good, I guess. I haven't seen everyone in a while."

"Yah, I suppose. Oh, and this little cutie here is Namine," he tells me, jutting the blonde forward so we're face-to-face. "You're gonna' start high school on Monday, 'aight? You'll be in the same school and all, so now's a good time to get to know someone from school, eh?" He gives a rather obvious meaningful glance at Namine before shuffling over to another group of people.

Left alone with just the two of us, I'm forced to be polite. "Uhh…I'm Roxas," I present a smile and my hand.

"Namine," she replies, shaking my hand gingerly.

"All right, all right, everyone," a voice startles us. Yuffie has her hands on her hips and a bright grin. "We can all talk later, and right now it's really cold. So let's all go back first, 'kay?"

Everyone consents to the idea, each heading to his or her own car. I look at Namine, who looks at me, and I wave at her before getting in the silver convertible. Her ride seems to be the BMW behind mine. Cloud is already waiting in the driver's seat with Aeris beside him. I sigh in relief as the warmness in the car cures my frozen state from the coldness outside. My cheeks are flushed, and the prickly sensation from the gloves makes it worse, so I end up placing my face in front of the heater.

"You'll be starting school in two days, Roxas," begins Aeris, fixing the rearview mirror on me in the backseat despite Cloud's disgruntled protest, "Excited?"

"Eh…yeah."

"Do you miss your friends from Destiny Island?" she wants to know, frowning.

"Kinda'…but they said they're going to visit me."

"You'll make new friends here, too, I'm sure." Aeris smiles at me warmly.

There are trees on the roadside, but they're not the palm trees I'm used to. The palm trees have this strangely star-shaped fruit called the "Paopu fruit" that people believe will bind a person together with another if they share said fruit accordingly. I shared one with Hayner back in Destiny Island by accident, but nothing exceptional happened. Wait no…There was some sort of effect...maybe because of the fruit I started to lose interest in girls. Or I just am not as obsessed with them as the other guys my age. I don't even know if and whether I can be classified "gay" by these terms, but it's not as if I give it any extra thought, since I'm too busy trying to get the undead spirits to the _other world_ instead of worrying about my sexual orientation. Of course I didn't mention any of this to my closest friends back on the Island – I do not need to be any weirder than I already am.

The door on my side of the car clicks open, and the next thing I know, I'm face-to-face with a spiky redhead with sea-green eyes. He has a smirk on his face, wearing a stylish overcoat with a silver key necklace dangling from his collarbone.

"Heh? Is this the new kid?" He turns to look at Cloud, a smirk still on his mouth. Cloud, unaware that someone just opened the car door while he was parking, merely nods in agreement.

"Who're you?" I ask rudely as he leans closer.

He makes a sound like "tch, tch," and taps my cheek, "Feisty, aren't we?"

"Axel, please behave yourself," Aeris growls, swiveling in her seat and whacking him over the head with a thick pile of paper.

"Tsk," he hisses, "That's why I don't go for old women like you – "

Aeris steps out of the car, grabs the guy's ear and grumbles menacingly, "You and me, we have something we need to discuss about right _now_," and drags him away.

I can't contain myself any longer and burst out laughing at the two, the redhead still struggling in her grasp. Cloud unloads the suitcases from the back of the car, refusing my help when I offered, and he convinces me to take a look at my new home. Aeris, done with her little business, comes over to me in better spirit than before, an expression of immense satisfaction on her face.

"Come on, Roxas," she says brightly, tugging on my arm and leading me toward the iron gates where she gains access with her hand on the admittance machine. "I want to show you around the house. Actually, it's not entirely what you would call a house, but wait 'til you see it yourself…"

We're walking on the cobblestone path, frost glittering like a white sheet of blanket over the well-kept garden. I can see a huge three-story manor, the exterior white-washed, and a balcony overlooking the front yard set several feet above the main entrance. There are glass windows everywhere on the house, and a bustle of activity seems to be happening in the manor. It truly looks like a Victorian manor from the medieval ages. The three-story house has pointed tops and slanted-in attics, an outdoor fountain with a magnificent statue of the gargoyle Goliath, and a garden with exotic plants in the greenhouse behind the manor.

All this I take in a mass of confusion. I ponder for a moment whether we are actually in the right place. I don't remember being raised up as the son of a rich father – I can only recognize hanging out with childhood friends in a secret cave where you row a boat to there from the mainland.

"Aeris…how did all this happen?" I ask, gesturing at the towering mansion. She glances at me.

"Your father, Shinra, Rufus, is a most successful businessman. The business enterprise in which he owns is the company _Shinra_, a corporation that produces the latest product of technology such as cellphones and handheld media players. It seems he has maintained success since five years ago," Aeris explains, acting as my personal tour guide through the manor. The smooth, oaken grand staircase takes forever to climb up. "The reason why you were entrusted into the care of your grandparents," she continues, "was probably because your father didn't want you to be involved in such a burden of life. And to do so, he wanted you to enjoy your childhood on the Island where he grew up as an infant himself."

I digest this information, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "But Cloud didn't stay with me on the Island." I look over at her.

"He's more than capable of handling the business," she replies, smiling. As we pass by the umpteenth room (this one for storage in the attic), she pauses and asks, "You're tired from the jetlag, right, Roxas?"

I think about refusing the offer of rest, wanting to know more about my family, but it seems I can't handle anything more. My knees are starting to buckle, my eyes like lead.

"Yeah…I actually do want to take a nap," I mumble reluctantly.

"All right, I'll lead you to your room. You can begin unpacking tomorrow, and then we'll figure out your school things, 'kay?"

I'm too sleepy to argue, let alone to say anything at all, so a while later, I collapse like a sack of potatoes on my new bed. I'm sure I'm dead asleep, but somehow or another, I can feel someone or something watching me as I rest on. Probably just a figment of my imagination.

I hope.

A while later I wake up to the sound of eager birds. The sunlight is dim, but my eyes feel somehow allergic to it. Glancing around, I see an empty desktop, a comfortable leather swiveling chair, rose petal decorations along the sky blue walls, and the clean, wooden floor. The bed I sleep in must be at least queen-sized, ridiculously large for one person, but I guess this is how the rich live after all. Funny how just several days ago I had actually been living like a wild islander. But I'm not one of them. A wild islander, I mean. I just lived on an island, is all.

There is a beige colored silk curtain draped across my bed, but I tie them so the curtain parts like a V over my bed. I stretch lazily, wondering if whether I can sleep for several more hours. And just then, I have this most peculiar feeling, like someone is spying on me. Or watching me like I'm this interesting display thing. I don't feel like dealing with an "outsider" at the moment, but this is one is actually haunting _my room_.

Not good.

So turning around, I look at the intruder straight in the eyes, just as he has been staring at me for probably the whole night (as creepy as it sounds), and I demand audibly, "What do you want?"

This guy has silver blue-ish hair down to his shoulders, an interesting shade of turquoise eyes, and he's wearing something like a satin bathrobe with a scarf casually slung across his neck. He looks somewhere between sixteen and seventeen, and he must be a real looker back in his days (my assumptions are usually right…about the dead anyway). Right now he looks absolutely confused, and he turns around to see if I'm talking to someone else who just came in. Or something. But my gaze is set on him the whole time.

"You can see me?" he asks tentatively, still clearly not sure if I'm for real.

I nod. He has the tone of an aristocrat, and his voice seems to be made of silk. "You're obviously dead, so there must be something keeping you from moving on to the afterlife."

"How come you can see me?" he asks, moving from his original spot, where he was leaning on the wall, and slowly taking a step toward my bed.

"Not everyone can see ghosts, but I can. It's not the best ability in the world," I admit, narrowing my eyes as the guy steadily inches closer.

"It's been at least a century since I last talked to a person…" he trails off, now only several inches from me, leaning on the bedpost. I have the instinct to scoot some feet away, since I don't really like being closed to ghosts (or touched by them – even worse, because they're ice cold), but that seems like a cowardly move. And cowardly is _not_ what you should appear to a ghost, because they take advantage of that.

"Yeah, well, you can talk to more people once I set you off to your journey into your next life," I promise, trying to sound as persuasive as I can. I don't think it works, because he has his eyebrow raised at me.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" he says, playing with my flowery bed sheet, ice-blue eyes concentrated on mine. Ghosts have the ability to touch whatever they want aside from humans, but if you throw an object at them, it'll pass straight through. It's unfair.

"If you have an idea of why you wound up as a spirit on this plane, I can fix your problem, and you'll be taking the next step in your life," I ramble off, tilting back slightly as his eyes rake over my face and his lips curled into a smirk. I never knew that ghosts can look as devilish as he does. Or, wait, maybe it's just him.

"…It's Riku."

I don't know what he means by that, and it hardly pertains to anything I've mentioned to him thus far.

"Ah…huh?"

"My name is Riku," he elaborates.

That's nice to know. At least I won't be calling him "the guy," or "that dude" anymore.

"I'm Roxas." I figure it's only polite to return the favor.

"So this room is yours now?" he asks, sweeping over to the floor-to-ceiling French window with silver draping. He stares out at the misty air and the slowly bustling life in the city with an impassiveness that gives me the notion that he doesn't care about his ghostly situation. And from the way he's dressed, it's a possibility that he was murdered in his sleep, with his bathrobe and all.

"Yeah, it's my room. That's why I need you to clear out since there's a new inhabitant, and the new guy is me," I dare him to retort, or object to my declaration, but he merely chuckles. A nerve in me bubbles.

"It is still my house, Roxas," he says conversationally. Despite his tone, I can discern certain sharpness along with it.

I glare at him stubbornly. He drifts over again, but this time he doesn't just stop at the bedpost, he situates himself on the bed so that our faces are perfectly level.

"I'm warning you," I growl, hoping looks can kill. Except even if they can kill, they can't possibly kill a person who's already dead.

His arm reaches over and before I know it, I'm pinned to my bedpost. For a ghost who hasn't been in contact with anyone for the past hundred years or so, he can't possibly know that he can _physically_ touch anyone. Riku must be trying to intimidate me by showing an act of power, but he doesn't know that he can do more than just mental damage. But I, as a mediator, have the ability to see, talk, _and_ deal physical means to a ghost as well. So, in defiance, I grab his arm and yank it in an awkward angle so that a - _crack!_ - sound vibrates. I'm pretty sure that if he is a live guy, more than one bone in his arm would've been broken.

Riku seems to be in utmost pain, gasping for breath as his arm dangles limply, and his eyes wide in surprise. Yet a few seconds later, the throbbing is no longer there, and his arm seems to be working again. Ghosts can be hurt, sure, but they heal incredibly quickly since they're already dead, so it's basically a waste of energy trying to do permanent damage. It does startle them, however, enough to convince them to consider what I have to say.

"You have two choices, Riku," I say, holding up two fingers. "One, you find out why you're still here so I can send you off without any _more_ pain, or two, you go find some other guy or place to haunt." He looks like he's ready to argue the point, so I cut him off by adding, "I'm giving you time to think it over, so, uhm, use it wisely."

Riku seems extremely troubled, and there's a crease between his eyes. "You can see and have a conversation with me, and now you can _physically touch_ me…what _are_ you?"

So I see how this can naturally confuse a century-year-old ghost, but I really need to start unpacking my bags. Without answering him, I shuffle out the door to the bathroom conveniently located next to my compartment. The bathroom is huge, almost as big as my new room, if not even larger, with a clean toilet and a massive bath that almost looks like an indoor pool. It has golden faucets the shape of two miniature dragons on the front end of the pool, and it seems to be at least five foot two in depth, and thirty foot by length. Someone must've prepared the bath for me, because crimson rose petals are floating in the bubbling water. I test the temperature out with the tip of my finger. Warm enough to heat me up in the cold weather, but not hot like the stinging cold-hot bath. Perfect.

So I'm resting in the warm and nicely-scented bath, slowly drifting off to sleep, when the door clicks open suddenly. My eyes snap open, and any trace of sleepiness immediately died. Standing half-naked in the doorway with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips is the strange redhead I met earlier yesterday. He looks as surprised as I feel. Then I remember that I didn't lock the door when I came in.

"U-uhh…" I stare at him as he shuts the door behind him. "I'll get out right now."

He turns around with an eyebrow raised. "Re-_lax_, there's plenty of room in here," he assures me with his trademark smirk that I don't trust one bit. "The maids prepare this bath for me every morning." He saunters over to where I sit on a slightly raised ledge in the bath. I squirmed under his gaze, my body suddenly feeling no heat from the bath water.

"Eh…I think I'll just excuse myself now," I say, producing an innocent smile.

"Really," his breath sweeps over my ear, and I shiver involuntarily, "since you're already here and all, let's just enjoy it as a hang-out between two men…unless you're dissatisfied with that?"

I scoot over a bit. Is that a challenge?

"Fine," I say, looking up at him straight in the eyes.

"Nice attitude," he commends approvingly. I frown in response.

My eyes widen when he starts fumbling with his bath towel. He's not stripping in front of me…right? I clench my eyes shut and look elsewhere, pretending to be interested in this petite rose floating near my hand. I can hear him chuckling, but I'm not looking until the coast is clear.

"You can look now," the sultry voice remarks from behind me.

"Not until you get in the pool, jerk," I retort.

I finally tear my eyes away from the rose petal when I feel the water lapping against the sides of the pool. Axel is wading towards me from the opposite end, half of him submerged in water and half still visible. That's the thing about tall people – something five foot means nothing to them. I force myself to act as nonchalant as possible, flicking a flower and avoiding eye contact. He must sense my discomfort because a low chuckle resounds in the hazy bathroom.

"So how's life treating yah, kid?" grunts the redhead, his face inclined towards the ceiling. He seems to be at ease since his eyes are closed peacefully.

"It's treating me pretty good." I rub my arm with the rose-scented water.

Axel's jade eye cracks open, scrutinizing me calmly with a smirk, and he remarks casually, "You have a girl's skin, you know."

I pause, glaring at him vehemently. The bastard did _not_ just say what I think he said.

"It's all pale and smooth-looking, you must take care of it re_ally_ well," he taunts with a widening grin.

Okay, that's it. No one ridicules me and gets away with it.


	2. FML

**Author's Note:** orz Left it hanging since November LOLz I've finally found the inspiration to continue writing this fic ^^ I've got the ideas planned out and already, but ah~ Thanks everyone for reviewing~ You've got my luuv _*blows a kiss towards the screen*_

**Notes:** You guys must know that AkuRoku is basically one-sided ^^; The main _pairing_ is not actually a pairing at the moment, since it's like...a threesome LOL Okay, that sounds wrong. Love triangle, all right? =3 Sora hasn't shown up yet, hm?

Paranormal Attraction

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Chapter I

_FML_

"Woah, calm down, kid!" a rather tousled redhead yelps as I thrust another wave of flying rose-infected water at him. Axel scowls, muttering about blasted brats with unexpected feisty personality marring the cute face as he grabs a towel beside the pool and wipes it over his wet face. I snort, averting his accusing glance and snatching my bathing towel.

Staring at the baby blue fabric, a frown flits across my face as I glance wearily at the complaining redhead. Just how am I going to get out of the pool with this pervert watching me? Axel seems to have noticed my indecisiveness because there's that impudent smirk tugging at his lips again. I sigh in annoyance, the air blowing several strands of blonde hair from my forehead.

"What's wrong, little Roxas?" Axel has taken up his taunting game, and he's eying me with a predatory glint.

I narrow my eyes at him, but the redhead seems to be unaffected by my coldness. "Would you mind turning around for a second?" I ask with the most polite and sincere voice I can muster. An innocent smile almost makes it way towards the corners of my lips, but I have an instinctive thought that it will land me in for some more harassment. Axel raises an eyebrow, and I already know that at this point, I'm bound to be tied up with a compromise between the redhead and me.

Sometimes I despise my supernatural intuition.

"Sure."

I ogle him. The spiky redhead smirks.

"If you give me a kiss."

I visibly blanch, and my expression must look extremely hilarious to him, for he's cackling with laughter at the other end of the pool. A scowl adorns my mouth yet again, but Axel barely takes my feelings into consideration; he's spreading his arms wide apart as if expecting an embrace from me.

"I'm getting out."

Axel's lips purse, but his eyes don't give away the same tensed reaction. Instead, they're twinkling with amusement. "He-_ey_, Roxas, I promise I'll not look if you just give me one kiss," he drawls expectantly, his arms now resting on the poolside. At my suspicious look, he sighs with a dejected and grazed downturn of lips as his arched eyebrows furrow, effectively causing his jade eyes to wear a sullen, "You'd-reject-this-badboy?" look. I'm almost tempted to just go over there and plunge him underwater to freshen the look.

I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a pointed glare. "Really." It's best to define my tone as oil-fueling-fire sarcasm.

"Are you scared, little Roxie?" I scowl at him, at both the despicable nickname and the unwanted remark. I can totally do without being called a wimp. "It won't hurt," he promises with his arms outstretched towards me once again. Heaving myself off the poolside with a begrudging glare and reluctant curiosity, I start to wade halfway across the floor before I realize that I've reached a point where I'm bound to have to paddle to stay afloat. Axel watches me, raising an eyebrow at where I've stopped at midpoint. Tottering precariously on pointed toes, I attempt to stay above drowning point with my mouth barely hovering over rose petals.

I'm about to demand for Axel to come over, although I don't mention the little fact that I may have to issue some violence here and there, and just when the redhead gives me that all-knowing smirk and parts the water with his long arms, the affected area surges forward with an innocent wave – that is, innocent enough, until my feet lift from the floor, consequently causing me to lose my footing and pushing me into the deeper waters.

Oh. My. Effin'. God.

My strained cries gurgle strangely as I'm plunged underwater, my legs forgetting how to paddle and my arms waving helplessly as I clench my eyes shut.

"Hey...Rox - ...right?" The noise is distant, and as my feet touch the floor, I feel something waving in my face. I grab it unknowingly, pushing side my suspicions as air becomes needy. With an ever tightening of the lips, I feel myself being pulled up into the vast expanse of the live-giving-oxygen bathing compartment. I gasp thirstily for breaths, wiping my wet hand over my sodden face, the other having been latched onto something warm that I haven't particularly cared for.

"All right there, Roxas?" a familiar voice intrudes the aftermath of my almost-drowned moment. I choose to ignore him by turning my face away from the imploring and amused jaded eyes. "Well, say something to your savior," he prods, and the thing that I'm holding onto nudges my hand. It must be his, I reckon. I scowl at the redhead, the act of hostility momentarily deters by a water drop dripping down from my hair and making me blink. Axel laughs, a light-hearted chuckle, and with a steady grip on my hand, leads me to the brink of the pool where my towel is.

"...Thanks."

"Call me Axel," he replies immediately. I nod absentmindedly as I grab my bath towel, but a hand cups my chin and tilts me to the side to face a wide, snarky grin. I frown inquisitively. The redhead emphasizes with his fingers as he enunciates, "A-X-E-L, Axel, got it memorized?" I push away the hand holding my face in place impatiently.

"No."

"Listen to your elders, little Roxie," comes the mocking remark. I can hear the sound of waves and the plop of rose petals as they push each other when Axel wades across the pool.

"Sure," I respond with a little eye-roll, my dry voice bounding off the walls when the door clangs shut and leaves me by my lonesome, "just not when it's a perverted elder."

Aeris pats down my navy school uniform and switches the tie with a white one, lacing it around my neck delicately. It's at the peak of the morning, a mind-boggling 6:55 A.M. My head is drooped sluggishly on the table, making the brunette "tsk" as she titters around me rearranging the flawed areas to crisp perfection. I mumble something incoherently so that she leans down to fix my blonde spikes and hums, "Hmm, did you say something, Roxas?"

"Nah...Aeris, are we done?" I groan, rubbing my eyes tiredly. The brunette straightens up with a flourish, and I find her gazing at me intently.

She waits a couple beats before a satisfied smile spreads over her pink lips, and in her melodic voice she informs me, "Yes. But please do finish your milk, Roxas." Aeris turns to wink at me before sauntering over to the living room, a vast lounge complied of leather couches and top-notch electronics with wide plasma screens, completed with a set of gaming systems and audible speakers. In the dining room, sitting alone on a high-backed chair, I prod the strawberry-jam croissant glumly as my other hand holds the glass of milk to my lips. I swallow the fresh liquid, feeling the pleasant tingle as the coolness worms its way down my dry throat.

It's been exactly three days since I've moved to Twilight City and settled in this enormous estate. Or, more formally known as my new home. In those three days, packing and unpacking have been a constant occurrence, and because of this preoccupation I've nearly forgotten about the vain disappearance of my bedroom-haunting-ghost, Riku. I shrug it off, hoping that the century old spirit finally gets the message that I don't want his unsettling presence in my house – or, more precisely, in my _room_. I lean into this assumption heavily, disregarding the little tint of worry clouding the back of my mind.

"Roxas," Aeris's voice brings me out of my reflection.

I turn to the chair beside me and heft my schoolbag onto my shoulder. "Yeah?" Aeris strolls into the dining room, smiling benignly as she glances at my silver platter with the still untouched breakfast. She shakes her head lightly before slinging an arm around my own and leading me to the front doors, the entrance bolted shut as the maids have left it since last night. The brunette calls for a maid, and a second later a girl in a French, Lolita-styled maid dress comes scurrying down the grand banister with a broom hastily dragging along the steps.

"Shall I open the doors, madame?" she asks, panting huffily. Before Aeris can tell her that yes, she may, the maid has already started fumbling with gold and silver keys produced from her side-pocket. The girl mutters to herself, an instance of "yes, this is – ah, wait, no, Master has told me plenty of times that this is the storage key...oh, is this it, now?" When she has finally gone through enough of the set of keys and has felt satisfaction with her choice, she hastily inserts the ridged end into the bolt. The maid turns the knob experimentally, finds that it is compatible with the key, and pushes against the frame to make the doors give way to early morning blue light.

"Well then, Roxas," Aeris says as the maid bows her head quickly before she heads back up the stairs, "you'll be transferred to a private school."

I nod, following her quietly out the doors and pass the stone lining of the vibrant garden, blooming with Morning-Glories and Forget-Me-Nots, all the way to the gates where two guards are already reporting to duty. They give a mock salute before letting the steel bars swing open, revealing a jet black BMW parked on the road with the engines emitting grey puffs of steam. Aeris guides me ever so comfortably over to the passenger door, hooking her finger on the handle and tugging it open. Immediately loud, booming music with exultant beats jumbled out from HD in-built speakers, a mix of rap and singing tangling with the music. I peer inside curiously and see a spiky-haired redhead nodding along with the song, his long fingers splaying over the driving wheel and tapping to the rhythm. When he notices us, the redhead turns around with a languid grin and waves a hand in welcome, his jade eyes glinting familiarly. He turns down the booming stereo, a volume plausible for intense listening and various shouts to convey a single message.

Aeris shifts besides me, her hand leaving my shoulder to tap the redhead with a hint of steadfast annoyance. The man makes an irritated clicking noise with his tongue as he shrugs off the prodding finger; nevertheless the volume has been lowered to a point where it's neutral to innocent ears.

"Well, nice to meet 'cha, Roxas," the redhead welcomes me, a tone of friendliness yet laced with curiosity meeting me halfway.

"Hello," I reply stoically, a crescent smile flickering on my lips.

"This is Reno, your temporary chauffeur," introduces Aeris as she encourages me to the backseat, holding my backpack for me while I do so. Once I'm settled, the brunette eyes Reno with a patronizing look; deliberate and confining, almost as if visually putting a leash on the wild Axel-look-a-like. "Now, _please_ don't do anything outrageous," she pauses to smile gracefully at me before plunging daring daggers at the smirking driver, the latter rolling his eyes just slightly as if already reciting the next line, "such as throwing hand grenades at the car before you in a traffic jam or threatening the passenger by careening into the sidewalk by _accident_." Reno nods along, pretending to have stored all this information in his mind, though it's pretty obvious that he hasn't cared a snippet for the brunette's reproach. Aeris can tell as well, for the disapproval in her furrowed brows only deepens as she straightens herself and crosses her arms resolutely. "Enjoy yourself at school, Roxas," she says as she leans in to peck me on the cheek.

I scowl childishly at her when she withdraws, but the brunette merely giggles.

"Right, right, anymore of this lovey-dovey parental frolic and I might just as well throw up." He receives a glare and stifled laughter. The laughter being mine.

We pull up in the outskirts of the school, veering into an empty space in the parking lot. I peer out the black-tinted windows to see a white tiled floor decorated with patches of flowerbeds at the center of grandiose buildings. In the middle of the expertly trimmed garden is a fountain which drizzles sprinkles of water from the lone statue of a headless horseman. The buildings surround the garden preface, extending over thousands of feet of land into another set of edifices. Those, I suppose, are the school buildings.

"Time to get to school, kiddo," Reno announces merrily over the jamming of exotic beats.

"Are you coming with me?" I ask, the worry being imminently traceable. I try to hide the anxiety behind a nonchalant, breezy smile.

"Yeah, sure, hold on," replies the redhead as he fumbles with the steering wheel. So far, nothing drastic has happened. At least, nothing potentially harmful like a car accident or beating a random guy at a curb on the highway. I kind of want to see that, though I know Aeris is likely to disapprove of my thought process. He finally manages to park in all the right places, and before I can fully undo my seat-belt, Reno has already unlocked my door. He grins at me easily, dragging my schoolbag out of the backseat and holding it casually with one hand.

"Thanks." I grin back as I heave myself out. We round up the corner of the parking lot, past the school gates that are wide open for the milling, uniformed students, and across the tiled floors to the double doors, the arch reading "_Kingdom Academy_." Reno exchanges a quick word with the security guards before leading me to my predetermined locker, a heavy climb of three floors up.

"Here."

I catch the user manual pertaining to the usage of lockers before thanking the redhead. He sports a mock salute, grinning lazily. I locate my combination on the back of the paper just as Reno dumps my schedule on top of my schoolbag.

"I'll be going now, 'aight? Tell Cloud that I was here, okay?" I nod absentmindedly as he ruffles my hair before sauntering down the stairs in his leather shoes. Frowning, I scroll to the right digits: right three times, back six times..._click! _My eyes shoot open as I stare at the sight before me. My locker's sparkling clean, no books have occupied the room, no dust can be found, and the area is much larger than I'm accustomed to. But one thing – just this one thing that I try to avoid at all cost is in. My. Locker.

Oh. My. God.

And thank god the classrooms are empty on this floor as of the moment because I'm screaming my head off, my voice screechy enough that it wakes the ghost dozing off in my locker. The auburn-haired girl rubs her eyes as she drifts out, wearing the Kingdom Academy's navy uniform: ruffled shirt and knee-cut skirt for the girls. When she notices me watching her apprehensively, her eyes instantly narrow upon the prospect of my sharing her locker.

"Who are you?" she asks icily, but before I can give a straight reply, footsteps jumping up the stairs catch both of our attention. I glance at her pointedly, but then a brunet with gravity-defying hair like my own with equally large cerulean orbs emerge from the staircase, it seems that the ghost girl has a complete three-sixty change in attitude. She's no longer the pretty ice queen; instead, she seems to be the ultimate girl in love gushing over her crush. And she's ogling him like he's a god, which I doubt he is, and flaunting around him while doing hair-flips that will definitely make other girls wallow in envy.

But she is unaware that the boy attired in uniform snacking on a sea-salt ice-cream is oblivious to her presence. In fact, I am the only one who can see and feel her, and despite the girl's obvious intentions to attract the brunet, they won't work.

"Hey, you're new?" the brunet asks cheerfully, reaching over to shake my hand.

"Sora, what did you do during break?"

"Yeah, nice to meet you," I reply tersely, trying to ignore the painful aura of jealousy radiating off of the girl.

"Which grade?" continues the now name-given peer.

"Uh...second."

He grins brightly, plucking out his ice-cream before beaming brightly, "That means we're in the same year!"

I grin; it's impossible to not smile because of that contagious laughter. "Name?" I ask, figuring that it's time I do the favor. It's kind of hard to pretend that I don't already know his name, but hey, years of mediator practice also means honing (however begrudgingly) my acting skills.

"Sora, and you?" He has resumed crunching on the sea-salt ice-cream. I wrinkle my nose; he's making me crave for them.

"Roxas."

But it's also kind of hard to crave for snacks when you have someone breathing down your neck for something you haven't even done. That, and trying to maintain a casual facade with someone oblivious to that certain someone who's doing the threatening.

The girl has started using her psychotic prowess, but fortunately I'm in the way of the depository so that Sora can't see the locker vibrating abnormally. I force a twitching smile over my lips, guiding a hand behind my back to hold the locker still while continuing conversationally, "Just moved to Twilight City a few days ago."

"Really?"

The girl doesn't know she's dead. Either that, or she is pretending she's still alive. For one, I'd rather not deal with this prissy type, but I've no choice and my head's on the line for this one. She floats over to Sora, her ocean-blue eyes looking impossibly sincere and yet possessive. I can hear the students filing up to the third floor now.

"Sora, shoul - " I'm about to tell him to get to class before things get _hectic_, but apparently I have no time to do so.

Because, precisely at that moment, my locker chooses to blow up on us.

And I know it's the ghost's doing.

I can feel it.

I hate my paranormal abilities.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next update shall be...whenever :3 And I updated because of a certain annoying sister.

But ILU all~

Pairing still remains Riku/Roxas/Sora. Even if you don't see it now :O


	3. Misery Business

**Rori's Corner:** Yes, I realize I've neglected this story for a bit...oho~ Well, I wasn't planning on dropping PA, but hey, I'm lazy. And I've finally decided to update ~

That, and I've been made aware of a certain reader's constant watch on this ficcie. I am officially scared.

Paranormal Attraction

* * *

Chapter 2

_Misery Business_

When I wake from being direly unconscious, a stinging pain shooting up my leg brings me back to full awareness, and also into the not so quiet reality. Lying on the mattress with my eyes wandering around the white room, I realize I've been brought to the school infirmary after the latest fracas, an incident that I can't quite remember in my current state. The windows atop each sectioned bed, divided by silky beige canopies, filter in light of the grayscale morning, and I watch the fragments of dust cast in the spectrum, calming myself and meditating my memories back. Murmurs from behind the draping cloth introduce my to others' presences, and in curiosity I attempt to sit up, only to fall with a helpless _thump_ back on the bed when I feel my whole back agitating in response.

Damn. Just _what_ did I do to deserve such crap, anyway?

"Mister Leonhart, I understand your concern for the young man in this division, but please, he is currently resting. It is not an easy task recuperating from such a crisis he had experienced from the defective depository," a solemn, professional voice urges behind the canopy.

Oh. Right. Ghost in locker blowing it up on me. Not just myself, if I recall correctly, but someone else was there as well. He must be this indignant Mr. Leonhart, then. Using the bedpost as support, I steadily press my back against it and sit straighter on the mattress.

"It'll only take a few minutes. Maybe even five seconds – please?"

I have to smile at that. He sounds like such a child.

As if trying to remain as composed as possible, the man replies in a controlled, cold tone, "You must head back to class, Mister Leonhart. You have no need for worrying about your classmate when you are doing terribly in analytic geometry."

"B-but..." Sora's voice falters, and I have to stifle my snicker behind my hands. "You've always let _Axel_ visit people in the infirmary, and he's not top of the class either!"

"That," the doctor says condescendingly, "is another matter."

"Xemnas, you hate my guts."

I can see the pout on the brunet's face, and trust me, it is _amusing_. The screech of a chair sliding across the marble tiles endears my ears, and I squint through the canopy curiously, wondering what's happening outside.

"You, mister Leonhart, need to learn manners," the man known as Xemnas reprimands, voice steel and unmoving. By the sound of thudding footsteps, I assume he's making his way out of the infirmary. "Do whatever you want for the time-being, but know that when I come back, you have better be back in your class. Do you understand, Leonhart?"

With barely contained excitement, Sora answers quickly, "Got it, _Mr_. Xemnas. You're my most favorite staff member." No reply comes from the administrator, aside from the shuffling of footfalls. I can't even stomach the amount of lies the guy can conjure, either. As I'm thinking this, Sora rips the sliding canopy away from the bed, and I'm met with lucid white light and cerulean irises. Inevitable concern protrudes from the oceanic pool of emotions, and Sora walks over to the side of the school bed, navy blue uniform contrasting against the beige and white walls. "Roxas, are you all right?" he asks, seating himself comfortably on the plush sliding chair. His hyper tone has disappeared and replaced with an unfamiliar worry.

I nod in response, showing him the elbow I had scraped when the locker exploded due to uncontrollable paranormal fury. When I knocked Sora to the floor in order to avoid a traumatic experience with flying metal, I had landed on top of him and became his accidental shield, my body as a splinter-proof. However, most of the exploding, jagged pieces of the manipulated depository hand flown on top of me, some landing on my back while others scraping my arms and legs.

Yes, that is the extent of the ghost girl's rage.

I don't think I want to be witness to anymore of her showcasing the limit of her possessiveness.

"I'm fine. Just scratches here and there," I lie easily, not letting him know the bruise on my arm where the defective locker had connected with when it fell. It hurts, despite my little white lie.

Sora frowns, mouth pursing. "But still, accidents like that are quite unusual, don't you think?"

"Uhh, yeah, pretty rare," I agree, hesitation eating my voice.

"But still, the way you saved me – it was almost like you were expecting it, Roxas," the brunet declares excitedly, leaning in.

"A-ahaha," I chuckle nervously, slumping against the bedpost with a strained smile. "Not possible. I just sorta', uh, saw my locker shaking...something like that."

"But you weren't looking at your locker at the time."

Is it me? Or is he totally mocking me? Either way, I have to pretend I have absolutely no idea what the hell he's going on about. So, shaking my head in that good ol' "You-must-be-mistaken-young-man" kind of way, I tell him in a clipped tone, "It was just a natural instinct, I guess. Nothing more, really."

Sora stares at me, a gaze I'm not quite sure if it is in suspicion, then grins with all his pearl whites showing, a smile that surely brightens the damp atmosphere. I know I feel refreshed by it, or, mostly I think I'm relieved from the interrogation. He leans on the railing along the bed, cupping his chin with one hand, and asks in a dubious tone, "So, how long do you think you'll have to stay here? Considering that your locker exploded on us, and you suffered from most of the damage."

"Probably until lunch," I determine.

"Are you sure you're all right? Thanks for saving me, though. You deserve the 'Most Heroic Act' Academy Award," he says seriously.

I laugh. "Then I should throw myself at people some more, don't you think?"

Sora starts to reply with that bright smile of his, but something catches my attention. There, drifting around the ceiling, just beside the canopy, is the redheaded ghost, materializing from dusty air, her once innocent admiration for the brunet turning into downright distaste, an angry snarl. Sora is oblivious, I've grown accustomed to understand, but I need to do something about the vase the girl's carrying in her transparent hands.

"Sora, watch out!" I cry in warning, grabbing him by the arm just as the porcelain jar wavers and eases from the ghost's grasp, crashing down in a flurry of movement and spilling water and plants everywhere on the chair Sora was just sitting on. Off towards the side where I've dragged him by last minute instinct, the brunet stares at the seat with wide, disbelieving blue eyes. I glance at the ghostly girl, taking in her fleeting expression of guilt as she disappears into thin air, before concentrating on the sodden furniture and a stunned brunet. Pushing the cotton cover off me, I maneuver to the bed railing, feeling my muscles ache in protest, and place a firm hand on the hard steel. "Sora?" I murmur.

"T-that...how did you know, Roxas?" He looks at me intently, surprise coiling in his deep, blue eyes.

I'm trained to think out of the box, Sora.

No, for real. I can't just spout about ghosts and their tendency to unleash harm on innocent mediators – he'd think I'm in need of rehab. I decide to ignore his question, saying in a dry voice, "You're a danger magnet."

"Roxas, you didn't answer me."

I shift on the mattress, refusing to blink when he stares at me, attempting desperately to look beyond innocent. "It was a coincidence. I don't even know what happened, but I kind of...just..." I trail off, this time bowing my head, obscuring my eyes that surely portray my own doubt behind golden blonde hair. The only time I dare to look up is when Sora starts to chuckle in that sheepish way of his, so full of hesitation and half filled with laughter.

"But, well, thanks again, Roxas! I think," he says, scratching the back of his head nonchalantly, "you should try out for Struggle, with that instinct of yours."

Uhh, no. I already have ghost-busting as my predominant past-time, I doubt I can save anymore time for games.

...Is what I want to say, but I think that would come off as pretty rude. Instead, I smile tightly and reply, "I don't know what Struggle is, since I'm from Destiny Island and all." I look at the liquidized surface of the sliding chair, feeling my rapid heartbeats that I can't recall hyperventilating eighty beats per second finally slow to a normal speed. I was foolish to have let down my guard, especially with such a violent ghost roaming around campus.

"But that was a really close call. I'd hate to think what would happen if you didn't...well, you know, save me."

You would end up in the bed next to me, separated by that single curtain. I choose to say something else instead, "At least you'll have a reasonable excuse to ditch class, right?"

Sora laughs, arms supporting his head casually. "Now that you mention it...maybe you shouldn't have saved me," he jokes. Seeing the look on my face, his carefree grin dissipates into a frown, and he quickly stammers, "I mean, not that I'm not thankful or anything!" He is about to sneak in an apology in, I can tell, but then his mouth closes and his eyes freeze abruptly, his whole figure going rigid. Since the sudden change is rather...sudden, I give him a raised eyebrow, glancing back to see what he's all hung up about.

Standing there, in a white doctor's coat is a tall man holding a clipboard in his left arm. His silver hair, neatly resting on his shoulder and other strands visible down his neck, reminds me somewhat of the ghost taking residence in my room, Riku, but in my opinion the guy's hair looks smoother than this man's. Either way, at six and a half feet tall, he's bound to look pretty intimidating. Not to mention those condescending fiery red eyes flitting over Sora and driving into me. "Mister Leonhart," his deep, slow murmurs introduce me to the Mr. Xemnas Sora was talking to earlier, "shouldn't you be in class by now?"

The brunet shifts from foot to foot. "Uh, um. I was just about to go. See, I was talking to Roxas, my friend, and forgot all about - "

"Shinra."

I blink. "Yes?" Wait, the guy's talking to me? How does he know my last name? Huh?

Xemnas's eyes flicker over my face, a continuing look of mixed emotions crossing his eyes, and feeling the tension straining, I look away while I try to climb off the bed. Sora guides me, his blue irises glancing at the tall staff member every so often. I pray that the man doesn't notice the broken vase until it's too late and we're gone.

"We, uh, will be heading to class now," I mumble, exchanging a quick look with my classmate; Sora nods in understanding.

The man's leather shoes take a step forward. "To my understanding, Shinra Roxas is found unconscious in the brink of morning after the dire accident with a defective depository. He does not have time to be handed his schedule."

Of course, Xemnas is right - I don't have my schedule. Damn.

"Then, I'll help him to the main office," Sora volunteers brightly, standing beside me. Seeing the narrowed eyes of the taller male, we can only assume that he is not going to let us off easily.

"You, Mister Leonhart, will return to fifth period. I will have someone _else_ take care of this young man."

Sora's sigh is so heavy that it tickles my ear. I wonder who this "someone _else_" would be. Not a minute later, as the three of us leave the French-windowed infirmary with a dramatic view of the outside scenery, a dimly lit day with gusty winds and melting snow, I find a tall blond leaning against the wall opposite the room. My heart leaps, beating wildly in excitement, and I hurry over to the senior, exclaiming, "Cloud!" His lowered eyelids flutter open to peer down at me, translucent, liquid blue staring into my cerulean ones. His thin lips curve into a barely noticeable smile, and I grin back up at him.

"Roxas."

"Eh? Cloud? You know Roxas?" Sora's curious voice asks behind me. I turn to look at him, about to give him a smile, when I notice Xemnas's cold gaze. My voice is trapped in my throat, and I decide not to say anything; instead, turning back to Cloud.

"Sora," my brother acknowledges. His eyes flicker over to the doctor, and he says in a slightly constricted tone, "Mr. Xemnas."

"Well, well, well," the man drawls lucidly, inclining his head and looking down at me before meeting Cloud, "the Shinra brothers, hm? I suppose you two will be the next candidates in this year's competition, won't you agree," he pauses, mouth letting slip a small sneer as his eyes flit over Sora, "Leonhart Squall's younger brother?"

Sora crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowing heatedly. Noticing my inquiring expression, the brunet takes a breath and says lightly, "I didn't know you were interested in the school's recreational activities, Mr. Xemnas." I wince, seeing the vein throbbing in the addressed man's temple, even under his silver bangs. Just when I think he's going to give us all detentions, he turns his back on us, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Head back to class before I notify the principal of your misbehavior. And I will see you in Health, Cloud."

When we're sure that Xemnas has left, Sora and I glance at each other. He's the first to break out in snickers.

"Well, let's hope we have a class together," I say when the laughter has died down.

Sora nods, grinning. He looks up at Cloud, who'd been quiet the entire time we were insulting Xemnas, and inquires seriously, "You two are brothers?" Both of us blink at him.

"We don't look alike?" I ask.

"No, it's just that I always thought Cloud was an only child," Sora says, laughing sheepishly. I glance at Cloud to see his expression; he seems mildly amused by Sora's presumption.

"And what's the competition thing the doctor mentioned?" I prompt with real curiosity this time. I can feel my brother shifting behind me, probably a signal that we should go get my schedule, but I'm interested as to what Xemnas was talking about. I mean, really, what competition? If it's like that hide-and-seek tag team game back in Destiny Island, I'm out. I always end up being "it" for some reason, and that is absolutely lame, in my opinion anyway.

"Oh, that? Well, it's a sibling exclusive game, so only students with a brother or sister can participate. You must have the same gender sibling, and, really – " he looks embarrassed by this time, I don't know why – "it's basically fanservice for the yaoi club – "

"Sora, you have class," Cloud cuts in uncharacteristically, back completely off the wall and posture straight. He's at least a head and a half taller than me, and with his lean build, he's rather impressive, gazing down at us like the way he's doing so now. Sora shuffles his feet, giving me a pat on the shoulder and a cheesy grin.

I lean over despite the sternness of Cloud's stare and whisper into the brunet's ear, "Yaoi? What's that?" However, before I can persuade a good answer from Sora, I find my arm being whisked back by a strong hand, making me bump into a hard body. "Ow," I mutter, rubbing my head. Looking up, I'm met with a firm pair of angelic blue and silky blonde tresses, strands that frame a pointed chin and prominent jaw.

"We don't have much time, Roxas."

Whoops. Cloud doesn't sound too happy.

"Ahaha, I'll see you guys later then," Sora pipes up.

I sigh, giving up, providing my friend with a very unenthusiastic wave in farewell as I'm dragged down the hallways to the main office. Life sucks.

* * *

**Rori's Corner:** I am epic~ly sorry for slow update. Aharhh. Yes, yaoi beware - aherm.


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